I read the ending of a book today. Not the best book in the world, actually, but the emotion was there, hiding beneath the poor editing. I’d read it before, although it had been a while. I flipped through to about twenty pages from the end and started reading.
Damn thing made me almost cry! Well, okay, it did make me cry. Like I said, the emotion was there on the surface but marred by the poor editing.
What did I read? It was the end of Simple Sarah, written by me. I’d sent off the first half or so to a friend of mine a few weeks ago. She’s a horse person and also has a grasp of this alien creature called grammar. While I was gone, she called the house and was all pissed cause I didn’t send her everything. Appearantly, she likes it and was about to kill me for the rest of it. I printed it for her and as the last of it was getting spit out, I read the last bit. Wow.
Does this mean I am interested in writing again? Does this mean my apathetic streak is over now? Does this mean I actually want to be literarially creative again? (literarially?? is that a real word or a paulaism??)
I am indeed interested in writing again. I even took a look at Butch Girls today and can feel some creative ideas bubbling to the surface. I printed out the first two chapters and read over them, finding some areas where it is awkward. I realize that I want to put the flashbacks back in, or at least a few of them. I want to show how much Kelly loved Anna. Then I want to show that anger that has been locked away for too long. That will show the risk she is taking with Grace.
Yep, it’s back.
Oh, and I bought a printer. I have a HP Officejet 6210. I am not happy it is an HP but that’s my brother’s fault. I got it to work finally with my laptop but I gave up on trying to get it to speak with the desktop. Again, it is my brother’s fault.